


A Dance of True Love

by Lisie



Series: The Lord Commander [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisie/pseuds/Lisie
Summary: Yet another WT promp. I thoroughly enjoy this one - I've been itching to write it up.It belongs to the prompt "Courtship"
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Series: The Lord Commander [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714444
Kudos: 24
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV - Aymeric de Borel x WoL Recommendations





	A Dance of True Love

It was midday and Aymeric found himself utterly and completely bored out of his mind. He felt terrible for feeling this way; he was currently having a meal with a very pretty young lady, conservatively dressed in her best and finest attire. It was an arranged meeting - you see, the rules of courtship amongst the nobility in Ishgard were very stringent. If one wanted to first express your interest to your potential partner, this was usually performed in the greatest secrecy and was not at all openly condoned. The official channel was for the family of the fairer sex to approach, either the family of the object of her attention, or, in Aymeric's case, (with his more complicated family background) the man himself. 

Lucia had insisted that this meeting was one they couldn't ignore. He would at least need to show his presence for a short while, before making his interest (or obvious disinterest) in the party known. He smiled politely, feigning interest in the lady's chatter - which seemed to revolve entirely around the parties and salons she had recently been involved in. Once he had done the bare minimum of what was required of him as was dictated by courtesy, he firmly apologized to the woman - he simply was too busy to entertain the idea of romance right at this point in his life. She took it very well; Aymeric had some horrifying personal experiences regarding the danger of a woman spurned, which he'd rather not go through again. She curtsied graciously, but before making her way from the table, she looked forlornly past his shoulder into space and said, "I begged my father for this lunch, even though I knew how it would end." Aymeric was baffled, how could she?- "Honestly, I think I was more enamoured by the looks you cast at another, rather than actually setting aside the time to look at you for who you are." She smiled, the cloud to her expression lifting. Not one ilm of what she had said made any sense him at all, but he smiled gratefully at her all the same. 

As he made his way out, the thought of paperwork filled him with dread. All week it had been more of the same; though he didn't mind in the grand scheme of things, it had gotten to the point where every document in front of him seemed to merge into one long blur. After all, he was still a commander of a military force - an afternoon in the training grounds would do his mind, and his body, some good. He reached the grounds, pulling Naegling from its sheath and made his way to a dummy. After a short time of fruitlessly bashing the inanimate block of wood and straw, he began feeling listless. He looked around the grounds but found them bare - a sparring partner was infinitely better than his current opponent, who could not so much as twist in its stand to avoid his blows. 

As he was about to resheath his sword, he heard a voice from behind him. The voice tickled his ears, the rise and troughs of its intonations more reminiscent of a swallow in flight, the sharp cutting edges of her perfect articulation like the frames of a painting. "Would you like to discover the answer to the age old question of which is mightier? The pen or the sword." A smile crept across his lips. Sparring with the mighty Warrior of Light Herself; he knew he was in for a solid beating, but he was very keen to oblige her all the same. His sword stretched out to his side in answer, his body not yet turning to face her. Perhaps I can use the element of suprise? He suddenly swung his entire weight around, his sword forming an arc above his head before plummeting downwards. It looked all too simple for his opposition. She stepped neatly to the side, not one motion wasted, apparently with all the leisure in the world. His sword almost came crashing to the ground, but he pulled it another direction, his muscles straining at the sudden change in objective. The pair continued their dance for what seemed like hours to the poor Elezen, who now had sweat pouring proffusely from his brow, mingling with the dark, wavy strands of hair that lay slick on his skin, drenched. She giggled sweetly as he leaned on his sword, his breath rasping from the intense physical exertion. 

He felt simultaneously exhausted but exhilirated. To think he had thought a dummy too below him; it was quite obvious to him now that he would need to train daily for years before he had any hopes of reaching her level of skill. He sheathed his sword, his tired and aching body collapsing onto the floor. His voice moaned in pain from between the hands which he had now buried his face into, "The worst part is, you were taking it easy on me, weren't you?"  
He heard her seat herself next to him. He removed his hands, his neck turning in her direction, his eyes softening at the sight. She had settled herself cross legged beside him. As he was now laying on his back, he realised the view looking up to her was as pleasant as from any other direction. She was panting slightly at least, Aymeric consoled himself - so he supposed he hadn't been completely useless.  
She licked her full red lips, her tounge rolling seductively over them. Her face was even a little flushed. Despite the fact that Aymeric knew tomorrow he was going to have a hard time leaving his bed, he didn't regret a single second, if it meant he could gaze at such a sight, up close, for only his eyes to see. "Don't say that. You almost had me that one time." She said, a teasing edge to her voice. He scoffed. If only that were true - although for a second he really did think he had. His heart was gripped in terror when he thought his sword might just meet its mark; he pulled back with everything he had, but the initial force he had put into his strike, added to the momentum built up from the weight of his weapon, was too much for him. A blast had erupted from her Codex, deflecting the blow. It was the first time she had even needed to resort to defensive magic during the spar, but it had shaken him all the same. It took him a second to collect his thoughts again but she had quipped, side stepping him and slapping her book against his shoulder, "Don't you even think of backing out when we've not yet determined a winner."

A winner. He thought with derision. She had won a long time ago. He didn't stand a chance. They looked into each others eyes, nary a word between them, for a period of time longer than what was perhaps appropriate, before he reluctantly shifted his gaze to the sky above him. Sunset was approaching and an endless cacophony of colour stretched out above the pair, the hint of twinkling stars on the darkest horizon. He heard a thud beside him; the two laying on their backs in comfortable silence, as the warm colours mixed and then were swallowed up by the night. "I should walk you to the Fortemps Manor. It's getting late." He heard her clothes shift slightly beside him, "Don't tell me after all that you think I need an escort." He closed his eyes. "Well, you don't need one, but if you should ever want one, I'd be more than happy to offer myself to you."

Right at that moment, the glorious Warrior of Light was exceedingly glad he had closed his eyes to savour the cool evening breeze. She could feel the skin on her cheeks, neck and ears burning, the blood roaring in her ears. Little did Aymeric know that while she had won the physical battle, he had unequivocably won the battle for her heart. Maybe someday soon, she might actually grow the courage to take him up on his offer. Who am I kidding? She thought miserably. How could she ever compete with those pretty noble ladies, like the one she'd seen him with today, all blonde and cute and frilly. But I suppose tonight, I'll just need to take advantage of my situation and have him send me home. A little selfishness can't be all that bad. 


End file.
